3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Dion
I left Emily asleep an hour later and went to place a face-to-face call with the rest of the team.
I needed to share what Emily had told me about the foster kids and find out what Eric, our tech guy, or Gideon had discovered.
I slipped out of the bedroom, leaving the door cracked just enough that Emily could call out if she woke.
After her bath, she'd barely managed to pull on the clothes I'd given her before exhaustion claimed her.
I'd tucked her into my bed, her small form nearly disappearing among the pillows, and waited until her breathing evened out before leaving.
Hades lay on the floor beside her while Anubis had taken up position by the bedroom door, both dogs understanding instinctively that she needed protection.
Within moments, the screen filled with the faces of my team, and deliberately I put my headphones on since the office door was open.
Gideon's expression was thunderous, Maddox looked resigned, and Eric was typing furiously on another keyboard, only occasionally glancing at the camera.
I thought Walker was still with his sick gran.
Gideon had been out with Abby—still contactable in an emergency—but it was why he was only finding out now what I'd done.
"Before you start," I said, cutting off Gideon's inevitable tirade, "she was targeted again tonight. Three men tried to grab her outside Murphy's Coffeehouse."
That shut him up. Gideon's anger morphed instantly to concern. "Details," he demanded.
I gave them the rundown of what had happened in the parking lot, keeping my voice low.
"And the attackers?" Gideon asked.
Maddox answered before I could. "Trevor stayed there to make sure the coffee shop manager went out the back as usual, but out of sight as Dion instructed him in case the cops arrived. The same car with fake plates arrived a minute after you'd left, and picked them up."
"Fuck," I muttered. "That means whoever was driving the car must have circled back around to get them. Do we have it on CCTV?"
"The car was abandoned in a dead zone," Eric reported.
I let out a rush of breath. At least Emily was okay. I might have struggled without Trevor. I hadn't seen a gun, but then I didn't give them chance to produce one, and gunshots brought attention.
"They had to have been watching Emily," Eric said, looking up from his other screen. "Waiting for an opportunity."
Guilt burned inside me. It had been my fault she was there in the first place.
"Where is she now?" Gideon asked.
"Asleep in my bedroom. She's... shaken up, but physically okay." I ran a hand over my face, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening. "She finally told me why she thinks they're targeting her."
Gideon leaned forward. "Go on."
"She's a social worker with Children and Family Services, as you know.
She discovered a pattern—foster kids going missing after being placed with certain families.
When she reported it, her concerns were dismissed.
She kept digging, went over her boss's head, and apparently stepped on some very powerful toes. "
Gideon's eyes narrowed. "Names of families involved?"
"Not yet. She fell asleep before we got that far." I hesitated. "But she's terrified, Gid. Whatever she found, it's big enough that someone's willing to risk a second abduction attempt, and in public."
"Human trafficking," Maddox said quietly. "Using the foster system as a pipeline."
The words hung heavily in the air. We'd all seen enough of the world's darkness to know how plausible it was.
Eric's fingers flew across his keyboard. "I'm looking at Children and Family Services records now. If there's a pattern, I'll find it."
"What's your plan, Dion?" Gideon asked, his gaze piercing even through the screen.
"Keep her safe until we figure this out." I glanced back toward my bedroom door. "She can't go back to her apartment. They obviously know where she lives, where she works."
"She can stay at Salvation," Gideon suggested. "We've got the security there, and Jennifer could—"
"No," I said, more forcefully than I intended. "She stays with me."
The three men all stared at me in shock, and I could practically hear their thoughts. Gideon finally broke the silence. "Dion, are you sure that's wise? You've only just met her."
I arched an eyebrow and swept a hand encompassing their faces. Maddox grinned. "He's got us there."
"But we don't even know if she's a Little," Gideon objected.
"It doesn't matter what she is," I replied half insulted that Gideon would think it did, my tone leaving no room for argument. "My house is secure. The dogs are already protective of her. And she trusts me, at least a little."
Gideon studied me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "This isn't like you, Dion. You're usually the most detached one of us all."
I couldn't explain it, not even to myself. There was something about Emily that had gotten under my skin from the moment I'd seen her file. The way she'd stood up to those guards despite her fear. Her kindness toward the dogs. The pink ribbons in her hair.
"Just trust me on this," I said finally.
Gideon sighed. "Fine. But we do this by the book. Full security protocols. And if she's in danger because of what she knows, we need that information, Dion. All of it."
"Understood," I agreed. "But I'm not pushing her. She's been through enough."
Gideon cleared his throat. "I heard from Walker tonight. It was his gran's funeral yesterday."
I shook my head. Walker hadn't told us she'd died. "No surprise he didn't tell any of us so we could be there." I knew the others agreed.
"He told me he'll be back in a few days," Maddox said.
Eric interrupted. "Carter Law—Emily's father's company—is kept on retainer for Oak Developments."
"What a surprise," Maddox drawled. I groaned because that complicated everything. Oak Developments was owned by Jonathan Rice.
"Get some rest," Gideon instructed. "We'll reconvene in the morning."
The call ended, and I sat there for a moment, staring at the blank screen.
What the hell was I doing? I'd never brought a woman to my home before, much less insisted on being her personal protector.
This was my sanctuary, my private space where I could let my guard down.
Now I'd invited a virtual stranger into it.
But Emily wasn't just any stranger. And the thought of her being anywhere else, even with my team at Salvation, made my chest tighten uncomfortably.
A soft sound from the hallway caught my attention. I turned to find Emily standing in the doorway, drowning in my t-shirt, her hair tousled from sleep.
"I woke up and you were gone," she said quietly, her voice still thick with sleep. "Anubis brought me to you."
Sure enough, the dog stood beside her, his dark eyes meeting mine as if to say, "I did my job."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." I stood, crossing to her in a few long strides. "I was just checking in with my team."
She nodded, looking impossibly small and vulnerable. "Did they find anything?"
"Not yet, but Eric—our tech guy—is working on it."
She nodded, but her eyes darted nervously around the room. I noticed her thumb drift toward her mouth before she caught herself and quickly lowered her hand, wrapping her arms around herself instead.
"You should be sleeping," I said gently. Wondering if her fear and being half asleep was contributing to her change in demeanor.
"I had a bad dream," she admitted in a higher voice, then immediately straightened her shoulders as if regretting the confession. "I mean, I woke up and wondered where you were."
I studied her face, noting the slight tremble of her lower lip that she was trying valiantly to control. "Would you like some warm milk or hot chocolate to help you get back to sleep?"
Something flickered in her eyes—a flash of yearning quickly suppressed. "No, I'm fine. I'm not a child."
"I didn't say you were," I replied carefully. "Even grownups can enjoy comfort sometimes, especially after a day like today."
She shifted from one foot to the other, looking down at her bare toes. Anubis nudged her hand with his nose, and she automatically stroked his head.
"Maybe just some water," she conceded.
I led her to the kitchen, Anubis padding alongside her protectively.
I reached into the cupboard for a glass and at the last second changed my mind.
I watched her from the corner of my eye.
She'd perched on one of the bar stools, legs swinging slightly, not quite reaching the footrest. When she thought I wasn't looking, she rubbed at her eyes with her fists, just like a tired child might.
"Here you go." I placed the water in front of her, deliberately using one of my unused colorful beakers rather than a plain glass. I told myself I bought them for Abby and Clare but as I never invited them for a visit that made no sense.
Her fingers curled around the bright blue cup, and a small smile touched her lips before she caught herself and forced her expression back to neutral.
"Thank you," she said primly.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Her cheeks flushed pink at the endearment, but she didn't correct me. Instead, she took small, careful sips of water, her posture gradually relaxing as the minutes ticked by.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" I asked, leaning against the counter opposite her.
She shook her head quickly, her knuckles whitening around the cup. "I don't think I could concentrate on one."
"Okay." I wasn't going to push her. What I'd love to do was read her a story but something told me she wouldn't like that idea either. A short smile flashed across her face, followed immediately by a yawn she tried and failed to stifle behind her hand.
"Sorry," she mumbled, looking embarrassed.
"Nothing to be sorry for." I moved around the counter, coming to stand beside her stool. "Ready to try sleeping again?"